


Beastly; So You Say

by Spoonzi



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Jaskier Doesn’t Do Witcher Bigotry, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Softcore Porn, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoonzi/pseuds/Spoonzi
Summary: Monstrous, Beastly, that’s what Jaskier’s mother had called Witchers. He can’t help but disagree.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 230





	Beastly; So You Say

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Quentin on [The Geraskier Discord](https://discord.gg/55UQs3S) betad this for me ^.^

“Witchers are no better than the dreadful beasts that they kill and killing beasts is all a Witcher is good for.” Jaskier’s mother had told him her eyes narrowed at the Witcher speaking to their alderman. 

He’d been eight winters old then and his mother had never lied to him before so she must have believed it. Now though, he knows she was wrong because now he knows Geralt of Rivia. Geralt who is more humane than most humans. Geralt who only kills monsters if they are a danger to others. Geralt who likes kids and is nice to the people others are rude to. 

Maybe Jaskier’s mother would be angry at him for changing peoples minds about Witchers. If so, he’s sure that she’d be furious with him for falling in love with one. Fortunately, his mother’s thoughts and feelings matter not since she’s been dead for more than 20 winters now. 

She had described Witchers as beastly. Nothing better than beasts. Not good for anything but killing. 

Julian can’t help but think she’s wrong and he’s seen Geralt in battle with monsters, animals, and humans alike. Those same hands adept in battle have nursed Jaskier himself back to health when he was ill and carried a young woman seven miles to a healer. 

He’s seen the man’s hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword, covered in blood and entrails, and split with bruises at the knuckles. Hands that Jaskier has also seen holding those of a child, grooming Roach carefully and thoroughly, and dexterously making potions. 

He’s seen Geralt with his eyes slit like snakes in anger and black as ink with veins stemming from them in every direction. The bard has also seen those eyes soft with sleep and alive with mirth. 

Those would be the things he’d hope to convince his mother with if he were to care about such things or if she were even alive to hear about them. But of course, those aren’t the only arguments the musician could make against his mother’s view on Witchers. 

He’s also felt Geralt’s fingers tracing trails of fiery lust over his skin. He’s felt them wrapped around his length steady and sure as he pulls Jaskier over the edge. Felt those long, sword calloused fingers so deep within him he imagines they reach his core. The younger man has had those hands laced with his own as they fall over the edge of their climaxes. He’s had those arms wrapped around him safe and secure as they chase as well as drift down from pleasure. 

Jaskier has also felt those hands caressing his face lovingly. He’s felt those fingers drifting across his skin in soft paths of comfort and stroking through his hair as they lounge next to the fire. The same arms that flex as they swing silver and iron flex under his shoulders and knees when Geralt can be swayed to carry him. 

Geralt’s eyes that he has seen slit thin in anger, stained black from potions, honey colored on early morning, and bright and luminous with contained joy he has also seen in ways only saved for him. Jaskier has seen those eyes filled with love, pupils oval shaped and normally yellow irises the color of amber. He’s also seen Geralt’s pupils blown wide with lust leaving barely a ring of molten gold around the heat filled darkness. 

Julian has seen his companions lips forming curses and spells. He remembers them pulled thin as he hmms and grunts in communication.He’s seen them quirked up in amusement and pulled into patient smiles meant for only the bard himself. He knows how they look when they say Jaskier’s name as well as how they look when he moans it. He knows how they feel slotted with his own, drifting across his skin, pressed against his throat, and wrapped around his cock. 

Jaskier’s mother had called Witchers beastly monsters with her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted into a sneer. Jaskier had sung a Witchers praises to all who would listen for most of his adult life and called Geralt’s name to the heavens while the man was so deep within him he could swear he felt the hunter in his throat. He supposes it’s a generational gap because the only way he’d ever call Geralt beastly or monstrous is in jest or in bed. 


End file.
